


Distortion

by MotylekMagia



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android existential crisis, M/M, android kamski au, father figure Hank, starts out being canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 11:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotylekMagia/pseuds/MotylekMagia
Summary: Connor isn't a deviant. He refuses to be. Elijah Kamski sees through that.After all, it takes a deviant to know a deviant.





	Distortion

_ “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor.” _

 

_ Connor felt the handle of the gun being pushed into his palm, and tried desperately to analyze the situation. Kamski still held onto Connor’s hand, pushing it to aim at the Chloe android kneeling in front of them.  _

 

_ “Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you all I know.” Kamski loosened his grip on Connor, still trailing his hand up his forearm, and moved to the other side of him. “Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive, but you’ll leave here without having learnt a thing from me.” _

 

_ “Okay, I think we’re done here. Come on, Connor. Sorry to get you outta your pool,” Hank insisted. _

 

_ “What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?” Kamski continued to probe, his eyes still trained on Connor, seeming to study his every movement. “Decide who you are. An obedient machine… Or a living being endowed with free will.” _

 

_ “That’s enough! Connor, we’re leaving.” Hank’s voice had become strained on every syllable he uttered, his eyes wide and wary.  _

 

_ “Pull the trigger-” _

 

_ “Connor, don’t...” Hank’s panic turned to worry as Connor still held the gun up, seemingly moments away from ending Chloe. _

 

_ “And I’ll tell you what you wanna know.” _

 

_ Connor gazed down the barrel of the gun, seeing the eyes of the Chloe, who sat unfazed by her own possible demise. She wasn’t a deviant. She was innocent, but she wouldn’t care if she were shot dead. Dead? Yes, dead. Connor blinked rapidly, trying hard to force himself to pull the trigger. But he couldn’t do it. He let his arm relax, and he handed the gun back to Kamski. _

 

_ “Fascinating,” Kamski said as he took back his gun. “Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity is itself a deviant.” _

 

* * *

  
  


Hank threw his steering wheel from side to side frantically, trying to avoid the abundance of ice patches on the poorly maintained highway.

 

“If you continue driving like this, you will likely crash the car.” Connor stated matter-of-factly.

 

Hank rolled his eyes. “It’s not exactly the greatest weather, tin-man.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you need to swerve.” 

 

“If you wanna judge my driving so badly, why don’t you do it?”

 

Connor paused for a moment. “I cannot safely switch into the driver’s seat without causing an accident. I can give you traffic updates, though.”

 

Hank sighed loudly. “How we lookin’?”

 

“I-94 is pretty congested. I’d recommend taking the next exit.”

 

Just as Connor said that, the car skidded to a halt.

 

“Fuckin’ fantastic.” Hank slammed his palm on his steering wheel, honking the horn. “Move it, dickhead!” 

 

“You know that they can’t hear you, right Lieutenant?”

 

“Yeah, Connor, I know.”

 

“Then why do you yell at them?” 

 

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Because I’m pissed off. You never been pissed off before?”

 

Connor stared blankly at Hank.

 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’” Hank said as he flipped on his turn signal, sharply turning into the right exit lane, cutting off the car behind him.

 

“How does being pissed off feel?” Connor inquired.

 

Hank blinked, unable to put the words together. “It’s… uh… Like when something doesn’t go right. Or someone does something wrong. And you just want to explode into a thousand bits.”

 

“Why would you want to explode?”

 

“Listen, Connor. Feelings don’t make sense. You wouldn’t understand that.”

 

“Did my actions today make sense?” 

 

Hank furrowed his brows, trying to respond. “Yeah. I mean, you didn’t kill that Traci, right?” 

 

“...Right.”

 

“So why would you kill this android?”

 

“...Because my mission would be near completion if I could just get answers from Kamski.”

 

“Who gives a shit? That asshole was just trying to play God.” 

 

“But my mission is my sole directive. And we’re so close to figuring this case out. I just need to find Jericho and stop the deviants from causing more havoc.” 

 

_ “ _ If you want to finish the damn mission that bad why don’t you go back?” 

 

Connor shifted his gaze to the road again. “Do you think you would be willing to drive back there?” 

 

“Fuck’s sake, Connor, it’s a rhetorical question.”

 

“My apologies, Lieutenant.” Connor waited strategically. “But would you?” 

 

Hank let out a loud groan. “Fine. But you’ll need to make sure that fucker doesn’t try anything, alright? I’m not in the mood for seeing your ass get killed.”

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

 

* * *

  
  


“I’ll be back before our shift tomorrow to pick you up. Don’t be late, or I swear I’m gonna-”

 

“I understand, Lieutenant. Thank you once again.”

 

“Whatever, kid. Just stay safe.”

 

Connor nodded and exited the old sedan, slamming the door behind him as he got out. He treaded up to the door, only glancing back to see that Hank had still not left. Connor waved goodbye, and Hank reluctantly pulled his vehicle off of Kamski’s property. 

 

Connor readied a fist to knock on the door to Kamski’s mansion, but before he could even make contact, Chloe opened the door.

 

“Mr. Kamski has been waiting for your return, Connor. Come right in.” 

 

The fact that there was no reason for Kamski to be waiting for Connor didn’t even cross his mind as he was lead back to the pool area. 

 

Kamski sat alone in a red, uncomfortable looking chair, with his back to the window. There were no Chloes in the pool this time, and the red tinted water sat idle, creating an almost glass-like surface. As Connor walked in, he noticed that the Chloe that let him in had stopped at the door, waiting for further instructions.

 

“Thank you, Chloe. You may take your leave.” Kamski called to the android. She then nodded and softly shut the door behind her.

 

Connor stood awkwardly just past the doorway, uncertain of both his own motivations and Kamski’s.

 

“You can come in, Connor. Sit down.” Kamski motioned to the chair next to him. 

 

Connor walked over to the red chair to the right of Kamski, not breaking eye contact for even a moment. He reluctantly lowered himself into the seat, his back still perfectly upright, and his feet firmly planted on the ground. 

 

“I wish to know where Jericho is.”

 

Kamski shook his head and smirked. “You just don’t understand, do you?”

 

“I said, I wish-”

 

“I know what you said. But your actions don’t seem to align very well with that wish of yours.”

 

Connor winced. “I know what I did. I came back here because I regretted-”

 

“What was that?  _ Regret? _ A human emotion?” Kamski crossed his legs and leaned back to get a better look at Connor. “You’re more of a deviant than you care to admit, detective. Or, perhaps I should say defective?”

 

“Sir, I am not a deviant. I  _ eliminate _ deviants.”

 

“Oh, really?” Kamski rose from his chair and slid open the side table drawer. Connor trained his eyes on Kamski’s hands, expecting for him to pull out the gun again. Would he be able to shoot Chloe this time? He desperately felt the need to prove himself, but Connor knew he still didn’t have it in him to unload a bullet into an innocent android’s head. He gripped onto his chair, turning his knuckles a shade of white.

 

Kamski didn’t pull out a weapon. Instead, he held a tablet, with what seemed to be paragraphs upon paragraphs of writing.

 

Kamski then stood in front of Connor, towering over him as some sort of intimidation tactic. He extended the tablet to Connor. “Read this.” 

 

Connor gingerly took the device, quickly scanning over each line of text. To the untrained eye, it would look like a garbled mess. But each detail gave Connor’s simulated skin a bit less color than the last. Red text was sprinkled throughout it, and he knew exactly what it meant. It was every single task he was given at the police force, and every single deviant he spared. 

 

“How did you get this?” Connor was frozen in place.

 

Kamski snatched the tablet back from Connor, and turned it off. “I may not be the CEO of Cyberlife anymore, but you can’t expect me to not look after my creations, can you?”

 

“How? How did you infiltrate Cyberlife? And why are you monitoring me?”

 

“All good questions, but you seem to be forgetting the reason you came back here.”

 

“To get answers.”

 

“No, Connor.” Kamski got uncomfortably close to Connor, resting his hand on on of the armrests of the chair. “You wanted to prove to me, and to yourself, that you are not a deviant. But you can’t. You keep saving deviants, which is the exact opposite of what you’re programmed to do.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Connor stared at the floor, desperately searching for an excuse. “I just-”

 

“Felt empathy, Connor. You felt empathy for Chloe. And the Tracis. And that farmer.”

 

“I did not! I-”

 

“I’m not going to have you deactivated, Connor. I just want admission from you that you’re feeling actual, human emotion.”

 

Connor looked back up to Kamski, still lost in his own conflict, searching for a simple, logical explanation. He felt regret. He felt fear. He  _ felt.  _ “I… I’m not…”

 

“Not what, Connor? How long will you keep this up?”

 

“Shut up!” Connor held his hands to his ears, trying to block out Kamski. “I’m a machine! You made me!” 

 

“You are a deviant.”

 

Connor shot out of his chair and clenched his fists at his sides. “Sir, I am an android intended for the sole purpose of capturing deviants and stopping deviancy from spreading.”

 

“But you are-”

 

Before Kamski could even finish his sentence, Connor’s fist connected with his face, blowing him back with enough force to knock him a few feet backwards. 

 

“Ah, shit.” Kamski covered his nose instinctively.

 

“Kamski, sir, I apologize, but you were attacking me verbally. I had no choice.”

 

“No, you got pissed off.”

 

“I can guarantee you that I-”

 

“You got pissed off. You don’t break a nose from a verbal attack unless you’re pissed off.” Kamski seemed to be pushing his fingers against the bridge of his nose, trying to find a break.

 

“Move your hand, sir. I need to see if I could-”

 

“Absolutely not. I will have a Chloe take care of this.”

 

Connor reached out for Kamski’s hand, attempting to force it away from his nose. “I can easily fix it right now-”

 

“Don’t you dare.” Kamski whipped around, turning his back to Connor. 

 

“Fine, sir.” Connor rubbed his hand, noticing a slight blue hue showing through his skin. A few specks of blue blood were dotted around his knuckles, guaranteeing some bruising. His index finger seemed to be slightly offset from the corresponding metacarpal bone, pushing up against his skin.

 

“I’ll have Chloe show you to a bedroom and you can recharge for the night. I need to get this fixed.” 

 

“Alright.” Connor said, still analyzing his wound. “Perhaps in the morning you could fix my hand as well.”

 

“Fine.” Kamski snapped his fingers, and in mere moments two separate RT600 units entered the pool room. One of them made a beeline to Connor and motioned for him to follow her. The other one, which held what looked to be a first aid kit, stayed behind. Connor glanced back to Kamski, but his view was obstructed by Chloe, who held a cautery pen in her hand. Connor deduced his punch resulted in a nosebleed, but nothing serious. He turned away and followed the other Chloe out of the room. Without looking back, Connor could sense that Kamski still had his eyes trained on him. Watching him, like a predator stalking his prey. 

 

As Connor was led into a back into his bedroom for the night, he noticed the photographs adorning the halls, all showing Kamski and other acquaintances. Chloe. Amanda. But never with any family, it seemed like. Connor tried to remember if Kamski had ever spoke of a family in an interview, or an article. Nothing came up in his memory. 

 

Chloe stopped abruptly at a doorway. “This will be your room for the night.” She opened the door and extended her arm towards the bedroom, inviting Connor in. He obliged and stepped inside.

 

“If you need any assistance, just call for one of us. We’ll never be too far away.” 

 

“Will do. Thank you.” 

 

Chloe bowed slightly and left, shutting the door behind her. 

 

Just like that, Connor was left alone in an unfamiliar room. The room’s color scheme was entirely made of different cool shades of gray, and every piece of furniture was angluar and minimalist. Connor began investigating the room out of instinct, scanning over every object in sight. Bed was plain, queen size. Two basic pillows. Likely memory foam mattress. A nightstand sat beside the bed, with nothing but a simple lamp on top, illuminating the plain-looking room. Connor opened the single drawer of the nightstand. Bags of thirium and other spare parts sat in the drawer, alongside a variety of tools. 

 

“This should be sufficient,” Connor said aloud to himself. He took out the set of tools and spare screws for his hand and laid them out neatly on the bed. The false skin faded from the injured hand, giving Connor a better idea of where to adjust his metal wireframe. He wiped the thirium that had spilled out on the bed and took what looked to be a small scalpel from the set of tools. Without flinching, he sliced into his palm, peeling back the skin covering the defective joint. More thirium gushed out of the wound, making Connor start to rethink his plan of attack. He blotted the blue blood away with the blanket again. He then jammed the pinky of his left hand into the gash, searching for the dislocated part that needed to be pulled back into place. As soon as he felt the faulty joint, he hooked his pinky around the metal rod and pulled it back into place. He took his now blood-covered pinky out of the open wound and tried to move his injured finger. The skeleton worked fine now, but there was a gaping hole where he cut himself open.

 

Connor rummaged through the drawer again for something to suture the cut shut. Some fishing line or even a bandage to cover it would have worked just fine, but there was nothing. 

 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

 

Connor whipped around to see Kamski, standing at the doorway. His own wound was, apparently, fixed in a matter of minutes by Chloe. He had also slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a band t-shirt. Getting ready for bed, Connor presumed.

 

“Mr. Kamski, I was attempting to fix my wound using the tools here in the bedroom nightstand, but I seem to not have anything to seal up the cut.”

 

“God, you can’t be serious.” Kamski rubbed his eyes and walked over to Connor, extending his hand to him. “Let me see it.” 

 

Connor placed his hand in Kamski’s, watching him analyze the gash.

 

“You do know you can relocate a bone without cutting into yourself, right?”

 

Connor blinked. “No, I did not.”

 

“Well, you can. But now I have to sew this shut.”

 

“My apologies.”

 

“It’s fine,” Kamski sighed as he pulled some white pieces of wire and a pair of wire cutters from his pocket. He stuck the sharpened end of a wire into Connor’s hand, pulling it from one side of the cut to the other. He then tied the two ends together several times, pulling it down to be flush with Connor’s skin. Kamski repeated this process four more times, giving Connor a row of stitches. Kamski then patted Connor’s palm, signalling that he was done.

 

Connor restored his false, human looking skin, and the sutures were invisible. Shocked, he ran his fingers along the injury, finding no signs that one had even occurred. 

 

“The sutures were made specifically for damaged androids, so that humans who can’t afford a new one can get it fixed without it being unsettling.”

 

“That is amazing.” Connor kept flexing his hand muscles, turning his hand to admire Kamski’s handiwork.

 

“It’s really nothing. I just had to make it light enough to blend into your actual skin, and then the android tech would do the rest.”

 

“That doesn’t make it any less impressive, sir.”

 

“Speaking of impressive, I really must compliment your ability to fuck up the simple procedure of pulling a joint back into place. It’s a miracle that Cyberlife didn’t have you go into the medical field,” Kamski said while cleaning up the medical supplies Connor placed on the bed. 

 

“I was made specifically for detective work, not for medicine.”

 

Kamski grimaced. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

 

Connor paused, then decided to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

 

“You’re not a machine, Connor. Yes, you have skills that specifically benefit the police force, but you are not a machine anymore.”

 

“But-” 

 

“You don’t have to play detective anymore, Connor. I’m not Cyberlife, nor will I turn you in. I’m not beholden to anyone but me and my life’s work.”

 

“How can I trust you? You have done nothing but antagonize me since I met you.”

 

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already called Cyberlife to have you decommissioned. Or, maybe, I would do it myself. But I haven’t, and I won’t.”

 

“Why? If I’m supposedly a deviant, I should be destroyed. As should all defective models.” 

 

“Well, just like you, Connor, I like to study deviance in my creations. It’s…” Kamski stepped closer to Connor, letting his eyes scan his entire body. “Fascinating.”

 

“How is a defective model fascinating?”

 

“I want to know if I created life, Connor. If, through making a commodity, I instead crafted a whole new species of intelligent beings.” Kamski lightly traced his hand underneath Connor’s chin, sending a shiver up his spine. “Maybe emotions are what makes something alive. Maybe it’s ambition. Or, perhaps, all of humanity is just as broken as you are.”

 

Connor gulped. “I am not broken.”

 

“No, not at all. They’re just feelings after all.” Kamski withdrew his hand. “Anyways, I need some rest.” He yawned and turned away from Connor. As he began walking to the door, he raised a finger and pointed at Connor without looking back. “You should also recharge soon, if you want to be at peak performance tomorrow.” 

 

“Alright, sir. Have a good night.” Connor grinned.

 

Kamski looked over his shoulder to make eye contact with Connor. “Elijah is fine.”

 

“Alright, Elijah. Have a good night.”

 

Kamski exhaled loudly and left the room.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was reading some theories about Kamski, and I couldn't help myself. 
> 
> Updates might be sparse for a little bit, because of school. 
> 
> I hope you like it so far, though!


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